


Oculus

by martialartist816



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Romance, trapped together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-02 02:08:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17879084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martialartist816/pseuds/martialartist816
Summary: An elf is tossed into the den of the beast, meant to keep him fed.





	1. Chapter 1

They tell me I’ll wish it was the dungeon.

I’m not afraid of whatever it is. They tell me it’s the stuff of nightmares, but anything would be more welcoming than spending the rest of my days chained to a wall, never to see the sun again. They could put me on death row for high crimes against Xadia, and yet I’d welcome it with open arms. I am already dead.

The sheet comes fluttering down to the stone floor, a whisper of fabric that almost sounds like a voice.

What’s staring back at me is my own face.

When the high mage begins to recite the incantation, it feels hot in my core, and it quickly spreads out to the furthest reaches of my fingers and toes, like and explosion that’s ignited within me. I arch my back off the stone wall of my cell, my body reaching for the mirror.

My reflection distorts, blurs, swirls. The light is blinding, and every sense I possess leaves me. I see, nor feel, nor hear, nor touch anything at all. I’m floating endlessly, unaware of where I end and something else begins.

The mage’s voice is gone completely, and in the silence I begin to tune into the sound of my own breathing. Slowly, by each intake of my lungs, the light fades into a new setting completely.

Warmth.

It’s warm wherever I am. The first thing my ears pick up on is the sound of a gentle fire crackling in a hearth.

My feet are planted firmly below me. My bare skin slides against smooth tile rather than hard and bumpy rocks. The room smells like paper. Fitting for a library, in which I see now is the kind of room I find myself. The ceiling is high, accommodating a large, frosted window.

My gaze pans over to a broad desk with a single chair accompanying it. A cloaked elf sits reclined in the chair, an open book perched in one hand. By the time I catch sight of the elf’s face, he is already staring at me, unmoving. His eyes are dark, piercing, knowing. The way he looks at me makes me believe that my thoughts are no longer my own.

The book snaps shut, and the elf stands from the chair. His robes drape across dark, freckled skin. I think my eyes deceive me because the spots seem to shimmer and dance as he moves. He is a Startouch elf, a kind that I have only ever heard legends about.

He strides across the room on light feet. His eyes, intelligent and curious, never leave my face.

I do not consider myself a short elf, especially not with my horns adding to my height. But when the Startouch gets within arm’s length, he dwarfs me to the size of a child, it seems.

Cool, soft fingers brush down my cheek. They wrap around a lock of hair that hangs at the side of my face, the strands slipping between his thumb and forefinger. I am frozen in place.

“Who are you, sweet creature?”

His voice rolls off his body like an aura, sweet and heavy and mystifying.

I want to say nothing. He looks at me like a toy.

I jerk away from the touch before I become too addicted to it. Behind me is a mirror, identical to the one the mage used to throw me in with the Startouch. When I slide my fingers against the glass, it’s solid to the touch. In my heart, I knew before even trying that I will not be able to get out the way I came in.

Only magic can get me out, of which I have none.

“Where are we?” I demand, watching the other elf in the reflection of the cursed mirror.

“A prison,” the Startouch answers.

“You are a prisoner too, then?”

“I am,” the elf confirms.

“You are a Startouch. You can get us out of here, can you not?” From every story I heard about Startouch elves, I know they should be the most powerful out of any kind. That is why they are so rare.

The Startouch lifts his chin into the air. “I cannot.”

Frowning, I cast my gaze to the tall door just beyond the elf’s shoulder. I rush toward it, my bare feet pattering against the floor. The elf I leave behind says nothing, but I can feel his intense stare boring into my back. He doesn’t try to stop me, and that should have been my first clue.

Behind the door is a short hallway. To the left, right, and at the other end are three more identical doors. I check all, and find more and more disappointment with each room I search. The one on the left reveals a bedroom of equal grandeur as the library, but there is no window. Simply a bed, a wardrobe, and a lounge. The door to the right shows me a sitting room with cabinets full of decorative tea sets. The only other object in the tea room is a dining table with bench seating. No window.

Out of options, I open the last door and find myself back in the library. The Startouch has not moved.

I exit into the hallway with a grumble and check across the corridor, just in case I might have gotten myself turned around. The library greets me at this turn, too, as well as the sight of the elf, who looks bored with my confusion.

“What is this place?” I need to know what kind of looped hell, teasing me with doors that lead nowhere, I have been sent to.

“Your anger will only tire you out,” he says. “This place is nowhere. A place where I… where we can no longer wreak chaos on Xadia.”

“We’re trapped?”

“As much would be obvious.”

I refuse to accept this fate and make an attempt at the window. There is a handle on one panel, so surely it’s meant to be opened. The delicate hinges squeak as I swing the door open, and I see nothing but gentle whiteness surrounding me from all sides. Nothing above, nothing below. It radiates energy similar to what I felt when I was thrust into this alternate realm. This must be the space between worlds, through which only the mirror can be a bridge.

“Loney, isn’t it?” The elf calls me back into the library. I close the window door with a click and fold my arms over my chest. “Though not an oppressive loneliness. It’s more like a steady ache.”

“How long have you been here?”

The Startouch gazes forlornly off to the side. “I do not know. Time does not exist here.”

Existential dread dawns on me. He has been here for eons, most likely. And he will most likely never be let out. The fact does not bode well for me, either. My wardens probably planned on throwing me in with the Startouch and forgetting about me.

He will not die in here. I will not die. It will just be us, here, until the world inside the mirror collapses.

“My only wonder is why they have sent you here? What crime could you have possibly committed that even a dungeon would not suffice for you?” The Startouch taps his lips, studying me.

“My crime was being born,” I bite. “I’m an elf without an arcanum. The elders called me defective, and they decided I wasn’t deserving of existence in Xadia.”

The elf clicks his tongue and angles his head to the side with a frown. “Poor creature,” he mocks, approaching where I stand in front of the window. “An elf with no magic? Living with that is its own punishment.”

I take one step back when he gets too close, but I have hardly any room to go with my back nearly up against the window.

The Startouch pulls down his hood, revealing ancient horns and silky white hair. He unclasps the front of his cloak, the striking gold trinkets glimmering in the light of his own galaxies. The heavy, dark fabric slips off his shoulders to expose more of his dazzling skin.

They cared little for me in the prison before I was sent here. What they gave me to wear was hardly more than a ratty tunic to cover my torso and hips. When the Startouch wraps me up in his cloak, I am enclosed from shoulder to foot, and then some. It’s still warm from his body.

“What about you?” I say in defense. “You have more magic than anyone else, yet you’re stuck here all the same.”

“You are correct, sweet creature.” The Startouch exhales a condescending laugh through his nose. “I have magic, and I am very close to getting out. You are here to delay me.”

“Me.” I scoff in disbelief. “I’m powerless against you.”

The Startouch laughs again, a deep rumble in his throat that melts my insides. “They do not intend for you to stop me. And this is not punishment for you.” He touches under my chin, holding my face up to him as he leans close.

“You are here to distract me.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Startouch takes in a long breath through his nose. His eyes close in ecstasy as he weaves his fingers through my hair. He presses me all the way back against the window, and from not trusting my own weak knees, my hands come up to steady myself on his shoulders.

“It has been so long since I’ve gotten to see another person in front of me,” he drawls, and it sounds like a deep groan. “To feel their skin under my hands. You are so warm, and you smell absolutely divine.”

His lips and nose glide across my cheekbone and along my hairline. He goes slowly, taking his time to savor the sensation. I might say the same about him. His throat is so close to my face, and the scent that rolls off him is intoxicating and soothing. I want to edge closer to it, so I do.

Fingers sliding down to his chest, they close around the lapels of the wispy shawl that drapes over his shoulders and draw him in nearer to me. My eyes flutter closed as I breathe in deeply.

I catch myself wanting to part my lips and taste the smooth skin of his neck, and my eyes open again.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

His throat is so close to me that, when he speaks, his voice reverberates through me and makes me gasp. “You have no idea how much I have longed for the company of another.”

The Startouch pulls away far enough for me to see his face again. His dark eyes glisten with desire, his tone practically dripping with it. I do not know if this is a ruse he’s putting on, but I can’t stop my resolve and caution from slowly washing away. He’s making me want him, and I’m already rationalizing why I should just indulge.

“Is that why I’m a distraction for you? Because you’re lonely.” I almost want to feel badly for him.

The Startouch chuckles and traces over my lips with his thumb. His eyes follow the movement, while my own wide gaze is fixed on his face. “I have been trying desperately to get out of my cage. They think I might cease my efforts if I have something to play with.”

He holds me in place as he seals his mouth to mine. My surprise is quickly snuffed out when he presses even closer to me. There is no room between my body and the window, or between my body and his. I cling to his robe, overwhelmed by the pressure and the pleasure. When the Startouch changes his angle and tastes me with his tongue, my throat releases a quiet moan.

“You—!” I gasp in surprise.

“Call me by my name,” he says between one kiss and another. “It’s Aaravos.”

His hands push into the cloak he gave me, invading even the thin prison garb I wear underneath it. I feel his fingers grasp at my hips. Even if I try to open my mouth to speak, my sounds are hushed by the feverish kiss that Aaravos gives me. My own hands float up and under his hair, brushing around the base of his horns as I hold onto him.

“Say my name,” he asks again, breathless. “Please.”

I pant against his mouth. My eyes remain closed because I know if I open them, I won’t be able to handle the look Aaravos is surely pinning me with.

“Aaravos,” I whisper, curling my fingers deeper into his hair.

The Startouch growls low in his throat and kisses me again. His teeth close around my bottom lip. He eats me right up, his hands roaming what he can reach under the cloak like a meditation. I swallow his groans and drag my nails down the back of his neck.

“Aaravos,” I call again. His reaction is the same as the first; he fits himself against me as if there is any space at all left between our bodies. “Aaravos.”

My hands slide from his head to the front of his chest. I rub my palms against the muscle and revel in how cool his skin can feel even with the growing heat between us. Aaravos pushes himself into my hands like he’s starved for touch, and I begin to develop an awareness of what he needs.

Yet it is nearly impossible to concentrate on my own actions when every move he makes succeeds in robbing me of strength.

Aaravos breaks the kiss and goes for my throat. I lift my chin to accommodate him, my eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. I reach around and press my palms to the curve of his back, anchoring myself to him as I am powerless to do much more.

“I want you badly,” he purrs. His tongue slides up my neck, like he wants to taste before diving in. “I want to drink every last ounce of you until you have nothing left to give.”

His teeth bite down around a patch of skin. My body reacts on its own, nails sinking into his back.

Aaravos might have bitten me hard enough to draw blood, but I confuse pain for pleasure and moan against his ear. He licks the same spot, and when I hear him swallow I know he has tasted my blood. I stop myself from telling him that he can take more if he wants.

“You are letting me distract you,” I tell him, though I know he won’t care.

When Aaravos lifts his head to kiss and lick my ear, my toes curl against the floor. “We have so much time, my dear, precious creature,” he says. “Time is not a thing at all for us.”

I feel his thigh slip in between my legs. I cannot help but open myself up for him, and he hums in approval.

“Good,” Aaravos encourages. “Let me feel you. Let me feel everything.”

A moan hiccups in my throat as I grind down against his leg. He steals what little air I have left with another kiss.

I’m just conscious enough with my senses that I remember how this can go both ways. With his leg wedged between mine, it’s easy to slide my own thigh just a little higher to press against him. I feel his excitement and enthusiasm, and the next time I move, it’s for the both of us.

“Ah…” he sighs out in bliss, reaching out from under the cloak to cup my face in his hands. I meet his eyes, and they are drenched in lust. “That is beautiful.”

We rut together, slow, on the edge of just too much but not quite enough. I hold the back of his neck, pressing our foreheads together.

“Has it been so long for you that anything feels good?’ I ask out of curiosity rather than judgement.

“What feels good is you,” he promises, and it urges me to do even better.

“Tell me what you need,” I say.

“What I need,” Aaravos drawls, dipping his head again to whisper against my mouth, “is to hear your sweet voice. Tell me everything you feel. Tell me what you want. Tell me, so I may give it to you.”

My face flushes, not at his words, but at the images that flash through my head. Aaravos licks slow at my mouth while he waits. I part my lips and taste his tongue with my own. I whine.

“There is something on your mind,” Aaravos prompts.

My voice breaks when I try to use it. “I… I want you closer. As close as you can get. I have never felt anything like you before. This… this right now is making me believe I have never felt anything at all before coming here.”

My skin tingles wherever he touches me, like the stars on his body are real and electrifying everything they come in contact with. He moans softly and drives himself harder against me.

“Is this close enough?” he asks, and I give him the answer he wants to hear.

“Closer,” I breathe.

Aaravos laughs, dark and heavy. “There is no need to hurry. I intend on slowly taking you apart, piece by piece.” His hips and mouth surge forward, pushing a gasp out of me and suffocating it in the same moment. He may want to appear to be in complete control, but I don’t miss the way his breath hitches and pants from his lungs. “By the time I am through with you, I will be the only thing you have ever known. Past, present, and future, I will be everything for you.”

My body reaches for him, for his warmth. Aaravos hisses out a breath and pins me to the wall with a hand on my shoulder. He is less in control now, riding me harder to the point I think I might not be able to breathe anymore. It makes my head dizzy, and soon it all comes crashing down on me. I call out his name, and when I open my eyes, I see the stars.

Aaravos is still so close. He exhales long through his nose and presses a kiss where my hair meets my forehead.

“We will be so close here. After all, you have nowhere else to go.”


End file.
